


You're the One

by thegoldenkittenking (empty_cup_and_a_chipped_heart)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon levels of cursing, F/M, Post Season 7, angsty fluff, fake dating au, if you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_cup_and_a_chipped_heart/pseuds/thegoldenkittenking
Summary: Daryl goes through great lengths to dissuade a particularly adamant admirer.





	You're the One

Daryl walks over to her quickly, casting furtive glances over his shoulder. Carol’s sitting reading on the swing on their front porch enjoying the sun. No guard duty today and it’s too nice to be cooped up inside. She puts the book down as he stomps up the steps. He grumbles out, “Hey.”  
“Hey.”  
He sits next to her on the swing. His arm goes around her shoulders, holding her awkwardly.  
“Is something wrong?” she asks. Daryl never touches her unprompted, especially now. She can count on one hand the number of times they have purposefully touched in the last year on one hand. Negan managed to ruin a lot of things.  
“What? Nah. Just wanna spend the day with my girl.”  
Carol furrows her brows, about to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, when one of the newer recruits walks by. She visibly deflates when she sees Daryl with his arm around Carol. Her steps quicken and she walks out of sight.  
Daryl’s entire body sags with relief as soon as she’s gone and lays back on the porch. “Fuck. Sorry. She won’t leave me the hell alone. And she don’t take no for an answer.” Carol represses a smile. This isn’t the first time one of the new recruits have crushed on Daryl. It happened more than once at the Prison and now he’s taken up the mantle of Rescuer, it’s beginning again. Watching him try and evade some of the more amorous newcomers was always amusing.  
“So, I’m your girl now?” she asks innocently, amused. There’s always one in every batch. Usually, they give up after they realize trying to get him to relax is near impossible. Or they lose interest and give up the chase.  
“Shut up.” There’s no venom in it. “‘M runnin’ out of excuses.”  
“That’s the sweetest way anyone has ever asked me out.”  
“Stop.” She thinks he’s pouting, but his face is covered with his hair.  
“Of course I’ll go steady with you.” There are worse things than pretending to be Daryl’s fake girlfriend.  
“Stop,” he mumbles.  
Her laughter carries as she stands up. The group is going to have a field day with this.

***  
And they do. Daryl turned six shades of crimson the day they became “official.” Tara let out a whoop that half of Alexandria heard and Michonne gave them a bemused “about time.” Neither Daryl nor Carol wants to let on that this is very much not real. The group doesn’t have the best track record with secrets and it is bound to get out.  
“Don’ know why they’re so excited,” Daryl complains. “Ain’t none of their business.”  
“Less to do in the apocalypse. Reality TV doesn’t exist anymore.” Carol isn’t too bothered by it. She’s amused more than anything, it’s nice to see them happy and excited again. They haven’t had that in such a long time.  
“Still.” He’s silent for a minute. “You okay?”  
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t.”  
“Nah… I meant are ya okay?”  
Guilt curdles in her stomach. Ever since she left, he’s been waiting. Waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to disappear again. He’s scared and she feels awful to be the cause of this.  
“Yeah. I am.”  
He nods. “Good.”  
They sit together in silence. Carol runs her hands over the couch cushions. It’s surreal to be here, with him, in this room. Once she would have never thought that they would never see each other, much less have their friendship back.  
“Is somethin’ cooking?” Daryl asks, sniffing the air.  
“Shit. My cookies.”  
She’s up in a moment and trotting into the kitchen. Daryl follows close behind, her shadow. Carol grabs oven mitts and takes them carefully and quickly out of the oven. They aren’t too burnt and most are salvageable.  
Daryl reaches for one and she swats his hand away.  
“They’re for the party. If you really want one take one of the burnt ones.  
He sulks. “Don’t wanna burnt one. What party?”  
“Aaron and Eric are having a dinner party tonight. We’re invited. I think it’s a sort of ‘Thank God We’re Not Dead Yet’ party.”  
Daryl looks torn. Aaron and Eric are his friends. However, a gathering of any more than two people puts him on edge. Not that Carol can fault him for that. She isn’t too keen on large gatherings anymore. Too many people and too much noise which make her panicky and anxious. She still hasn’t fully adjusted to civilian life. But she’s getting better. Having Daryl around helps.  
She almost turned Aaron down when he asked her earlier, but she just couldn’t. Him and Eric are in a small minority who treat her normally, like she’s an actual person. Almost everyone else treats her like she’s broken glass, dangerous and is to be handled with a delicate hand. Even some of the group treats her so. Especially Rick.  
“Fine. We’ll go.” Daryl grumbles out. He sounds like she’s taking him before a firing squad.  
***  
Daryl knocks on Aaron and Eric’s door muttering the entire time. Carol made him shower earlier, and put on clean pants. He hates it. It’s just some stupid ass party. It’s not like Aaron and Eric haven’t seen him looking worse.  
But Carol insisted, and fuck if he isn’t putty in her hands. She looks nice tonight; a clean button-down and jeans that hug her ass. Daryl’s spent most of the evening very pointedly not staring at her ass. He isn’t sure he’s very successful with the constant smirks she’s been sending his way. At least she ain’t wearing those god-awful cardigan and slacks. He hates them with a passion.  
Carol’s holding the plate of cookies she made earlier, staring at them, brow furrowed in concentration.  
“You ate some.”  
“Nah.”  
She looks at him, gaze firm and clear. Fuck her eyes are real pretty,  
“You have crumbs on your face,” she says primly. Her mouth is tugged up in a smirk.  
He wipes furiously at his face.  
“No, you missed them. Here.” She hands him the plate of cookies, reaching up and swiping her thumb along the corner of his mouth.  
He leans into her touch, starving for affection. Carol’s thumb stops, and she watches him with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide. She smells like the fucking cookies she made earlier-- sugar and vanilla-- and it’s intoxicating. She leans even closer into him, her hand moving from his face to his shoulder for support. Daryl’s eyes are drawn to her lips, which are plump and pink. He leans down, the slightest bit. His lips are inches from hers.  
Of fucking course, that’s when the door opens and there’s Aaron and Eric looking as happy as a bunch of fucking clams.  
Carol jumps backs from him like she’s been burned. His face feels like it’s about a million degrees. What the fuck were they doing? Aaron and Eric are unsurprised, and look thrilled that him and Carol were nearly kissing on their porch. But then he remembers. There is no shame in what they are doing. This is the sort of thing real couples do, and to Aaron and Eric they are a real couple. Carol leans into his side, recovering quicker than he does, and tugs his arm around her discreetly. He anchors his thumb around the belt loop on her hip. It feels way too fucking right.  
Carol’s speaking with them, the conversation going right over his head. He’s too involved with Carol to pay attention to what they’re saying. She isn’t bright and happy the way she used to be, but she sounds collected. Content. He isn’t paying the conversation much attention-- buncha boring ass pleasantries about the weather and shit-- he’s too distracted by Carol’s hair. It’s like spun silver and he knows it the softest fucking thing in the world. His hands itch to touch it.  
“Daryl.”  
He’s pulled out of his reverie, staring blankly at the three of them. Carol has a tiny crease between her brows, her head cocked to the side. Fuck. “What?”  
“We’re making spaghetti tonight. That okay?” Aaron explains.  
“Yep. That’s fine. Great,” he rambles. Their gonna figure out something’s up if he doesn’t get his head in order.  
Carol still watches him, looking slightly concerned. He has to let go of her to walk into the house, and he feels the loss instantly.  
Aaron and Eric disappear into the kitchen, collecting drinks and putting away Carol’s cookies. Daryl looks around the living room.  
“There ain’t no people here. I thought yah said this was gonna be a party.”  
Carol looks as confused as he feels. Then, Eric calls out from the kitchen. “We’re so happy you agreed to come over tonight. There aren’t many other couples who we haven’t invited to dinner. Honestly, half the reason we were so excited you two happened was just to have a conversation with a new couple.”  
“A double-date ain’t a party.” Daryl mutters grumpily. This is even worse than a party. At least at one of those he can hide in a corner. No hiding to be had here. Carol gives him A Look.  
“He said dinner party, I just assumed…” She sighs. “It won’t be that bad. It’ll be good.”  
He watches her dubiously. Not only does he have to be social, now he has to pretend that him and Carol are seriously dating. They’ve gotten away with quick touches and endearments so far when they walk around Alexandria. People buy into it. Having dinner with friends who know them, is gonna be a lot fucking harder. They’re gonna be asked questions about their relationship and they’re gonna have to have answers. Answers that don’t exist and that he doesn’t have. He has no fucking clue how he’s gonna put up with it for an entire evening. His stomach is already to  
***  
The dinner is going… well. Which surprises Carol. Aaron and Eric are used to Daryl and his silences which makes the conversation less awkward. They also take her lilted conversation in stride. The evening is more enjoyable than she thought it was going to be. Just the four of them is much easier than dealing with a slough of people.  
The conversation is light, regulated to light gossip and discussion of the communities. Everything is going smoothly until Eric asks, “So when did you guys… happen? We always assumed that you two were together when you first arrived. Then we realized you weren’t. So what brought you two together?”  
Carol’s mind is spinning, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. Everything sounds fake. Or emotionless. They should have created a game plan for this.  
It’s Daryl who speaks first. “I dunno. After everythin’ that happened… Realized how little time we have. Wasn’t gonna fuck around no more. So I asked.” He shrugs.  
Carol smiles at him. It’s soft and real. She can’t remember the last time she smiled a real smile. “And how could I say no?” Daryl smiles one of his lopsided, half smiles. The smile makes  
“That’s so sweet. I’m happy for you.” Aaron says, finishing a one of the cookies Carol made.  
They switch topics to other matters and before she knows it, they’re on their way out the door. It’s a short walk back to their house, but Daryl sets out on the long way home. This path doubles back on itself twice and manage to circle their house, but Carol doesn’t mind. It’s nice to spend more time with him in this between state. Right now they are Daryl and Carol, the happy couple who are terribly in love. But once they get home they’ll go back to being Daryl and Carol, estranged friends. She’ll return to an empty room filled with painful memories and stay up half the night clearly outlining every single one of her regrets and mistakes. This walk lets them be a little bit of both though. Both the real and the fake.  
“Wasn’t expectin’ him to ask that.”  
“We should probably come up with answers to those sorts of questions. It would look bad if we got caught in a lie.” Carol says. They are walking side by side, brushing up against each other with every other step.  
“Yeah.”  
Carol hums a bit, thinking. “Okay. The first time we fell in love.”  
“That’s real fucking intrusive. Ain’t none of their business.”  
“Yes, but they’ll still ask. And we still need an answer.” Carol pauses. The best lies are always rooted in truths. However, it’s certainly not a lie if she means every word. “The first time I fell in love with you was when you searched for Sophia.” She tries to say it off hand, but he flinches. It’s beginning to hurt less every time she brings her up. Carol isn’t sure if she wants it to.  
“That’s good. Believable.”  
“Thank you.” He gives her one of his little half smiles. She used to mine for those, coveting them like precious jewels. She’d flirt outrageously, just to get him to smirk a bit. When did that stop?  
Daryl still hasn’t answered. “What about you?” she prompts.  
“Uhhhh… I dunno.”  
“It’s that hard to lie about loving me, huh?” He snorts and knocks his shoulder into hers.  
“Nah. Just hard to choose.”  
“Oh? So there’s more than one?”  
“Stop.” He lets out a breath of air. It sounds like a laugh and she smiles privately to herself.  
“You should just say that.” Carol says, breaking the silence.  
“What?”  
“Say that it’s hard to choose. People love that sort of shit.” Once upon a time she found that terribly romantic. Like something out of a fairy tale.  
Daryl mulls it over for a bit. “Sounds good. Anythin’ else we need to cover?”  
“Not that I can think of. Everything else we already know the answers to. Like where we first met and other bullshit.” That’s the best thing of being best friends with the person you’re fake dating. You know all the answers.  
“What if they ask about shit like our first kiss or somethin’?”  
“Are you saying you kiss and tell Daryl Dixon?” she teases. She’s had too much wine tonight.  
“No!” he scowls. “People are real fuckin’ nosy. They eat that shit up.”  
“Just say we’re taking it slow.”  
They’ve arrived at their house. It’s one of the smaller ones, only three bedrooms. When everyone was pairing off to resettle into their home, Daryl and Carol were the only two left. It was so natural to pair up with him again. To bunk down together like they did so many years before.  
He opens the door and turns to go up the stairs to his room. “Night Carol.”  
“Goodnight.”  
His footsteps are heavy up the stairs and his door slams shut.  
***  
Daryl feels like they’ve fallen into a trap they can’t get out of. He’s created his own personal hell. Why couldn’t he have just avoided Julie? Why did he have to come up with some dumbass idea of pretend dating the only woman he’s only ever really been attracted to? He knows why, but it doesn’t help any.  
At this point, they can’t bow out of their fake relationship. At first he thought he’d just hang around Carol a few days and maybe do some couple-y shit and then they could pretend break-up. Then they could go back to being Carol and Daryl, once best friends now familiar acquaintances. Julie though had to go blab her mouth to everyone and here they are. One month later, with no end in sight. It’s bad enough that he has to be around her constantly outside and he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. So now when they’re at home without company he ignores her. Or tries too. Carol’s constantly bugging him though, asking his opinion on different dishes she makes or her pastries or cakes or cookies. She’s also started a movie night where they sit on the couch together and Daryl tries his best to put any thoughts other than the movie out of his mind. The best worst nights are when she tucks herself against him like they are really dating. It’s too easy to forget what they actually are.  
Which is why he’s hiding in his room. Carol’s downstairs in the kitchen baking something that smells absolutely fucking amazing. But she makes him all kinds of nervous now, and he has no idea how to act around her.  
Finally his growling stomach wins out, and he walks down into the kitchen. The walls are a subdued yellow and the cupboards are a crisp white. Of all the rooms in the house it’s his favorite. Carol always seems content, even when she’s upset.  
She smiles-- a real smile, fuck he missed them-- when he appears in the doorway. “I was wondering how long it would take you to show up.” There’s batter all over her fingers. She sticks one in her mouth, sucking on it making the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. His pants grow too tight and his cheeks are lit aflame.  
She has no idea what she’s doing.  
“Bakin’ again?” he asks. Carol bakes when she’s stressed or working through shit. He’s eaten more baked goods in the last four months than he has the entirety of his adult life.  
“There’s a scone recipe I wanted to try.”  
“They smell real good.” The smell of fruit hangs in the air. Prolly blueberry or blackberry. Tara had found some wild bushes close to Alexandria. Carol’d been complaining about a lack of fresh fruit, so Daryl brought home a few cup fulls yesterday and stuck them in the fridge.  
Carol smiles at him. “This batch is for Rick and Michonne. These” she waves over to a cooling plate of sones, “are for Tara for finding and sharing the berries. I know you’ve been worried about your weight, so I thought I’d get them out of the house.”  
“Well there’s only the two of us. Someone’s gotta eat ‘em.”  
She shakes her head, bemused.  
Tara ain’t gonna miss one. He snags a scone and pops it into his mouth. Fuck, Carol’s good at baking.  
“Don’t eat them!” she calls out after him.  
He eats another.  
***  
The evening’s warm-- almost muggy, spring is finally on it’s way out. It’s too warm to sit inside so they’re on their front porch. Daryl’s fiddling with his crossbow, making sure it’s in working order for his hunting expedition tomorrow. Carol’s next to him, fiddling with her lighter. There’s no use for it, she gave up smoking a few months ago. Dealing with lung cancer with limited health care options is less than ideal. But she keeps the lighter. Daryl gave it to her.  
Their arrangement is coming to an end; it’s two months overdue and no longer necessary. Julie lost interest weeks ago. There’s no reason to pretend any longer. Trying to hide that it isn’t real is getting harder to do. This morning Carol was grilled on Daryl’s ability to kiss by Michonne and Tara. Daryl now has an entire set of abilities she has no idea if he actually possesses. Michonne and Tara are asking for gossip and playing coy is only going to get her so far. Their house of cards is beginning to fall apart.  
Carol doesn’t want it to end. The last two months may have been complete lies, but she loved every moment of it. Pretending to be Daryl’s girlfriend is every dream she’s ever had come true. It’s become an addiction, and she craves it more now than she ever had. At first she thought that agreeing to this sham would get the craving out of her system. That they could go back to being Carol and Daryl, friends and nothing more. Now that she’s gotten a taste, she wants it all.  
Carol has to put an end to this. Before she does something she regrets.  
She turns to him, about to end it all, when his mouth catches hers. His lips are soft and clumsy, and her heart feels like it’s going to explode in her chest. The kiss is featherlight, a mere brush of skin against skin.  
She doesn’t move, her mind still trying to catch up with what the fuck is happening when he pulls away.  
“Fuck.” He’s breathing hard and his cheeks are red. “‘M sorry.” Grabbing his bow he stands up and nearly runs down the steps.  
Carol sits on the porch for a moment longer, trying to process everything that happened in the last minute and a half. Her hand moves to her lips, touching them gently. That wasn’t what she expected to happen. Not at all. She didn’t even have a chance to respond. And it’s her lack of response that’s fucked this up. It’s why he ran; he didn’t think she wanted this.  
The rest of her afternoon is spent worrying over what damage she’s manage to do to their relationship and worrying about Daryl. He hasn’t come back yet. Half of her hoped he would so they could talk, but the other half knew he wouldn’t. Their relationship withstood separation, lies, and murder. Hell, it more or less started with the loss and death of her daughter. Carol isn’t sure it’ll withstand a kiss though.  
She’d rather die than lose him.  
***  
Daryl leaves for his hunt early. He can’t stand going back and facing Carol. Not after he treated her so crassly. He forced himself on her and that thought makes his stomach twist and fold in on itself. Treated her no better than her piece of shit husband did. She just looked so fuckin’ pretty sittin’ next to him with the sun lighting up her hair like a silver halo. Before he knew it, he was kissing her.  
He kicks at a rock in his way, sending to tumbling in front of him. He’s gonna hafta beg for her forgiveness. There’s not enough he can do in the entire world to make up for his behavior.  
Daryl can’t lose her. Not again.  
***  
His hunting expedition is cut short by a day. The original plan was to stay out for two or three days, but his guilt weighs too heavily. It’s not like he’s catching anything anyway, he’s too distracted and loses the tracks or misses his shot entirely. What he brings back is pitiful. Just something else to add to his growing pile of shame and misery.  
Carol’s the first thing he sees when he gets through the gate. She looks pissed, standing in the middle of the street, glaring at him. He hunches over waiting for her anger. The middle of the street surrounded by curious onlookers is not how he wanted this to happen. If this is what it takes to fix their relationship, then fuck he’ll take it.  
She marches up to him, eyes burning. For a moment he’s half afraid she’s gonna hit him, but then her mouth crashes into his and she’s kissing him. She’s just as soft as he remembered but a whole lot more aggressive. He can only stand there like an idiot, to shocked to do anything. Her mouth moves against his, and he tries to keep up. Every sense is filled with her.  
She pulls away, eyes bright. “Never leave without telling me ever again.”  
He nods. It’s the only thing he can do.  
Carol pulls him down the street as he stumbles after her. The crowd that gathered is beginning to catcall them and he can distinctly hear Tara yelling at him to “go and get it.”  
She leads them to a quiet corner between two houses. Her chest is heaving.  
“We okay?” he asks.  
“Yeah. We are.” Her smile is wide and she looks genuinely happy for the first time in months.  
He pulls her into his arms and rests his cheek against her curls. “Good.”  
He leans down to kiss her again, it’s soft and quick. Their foreheads are pressed together.  
“Ya wanna go out sometime?”  
Her laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you liked it please leave a comment. They are my writing lifeblood.


End file.
